


Offer yourself a thousand times

by Vanamiya



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: I don't even know how to tag this, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, alos there's Megatron but I'm not gonna tag him because he appears for like two paragraphs xD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanamiya/pseuds/Vanamiya
Summary: He didn't want to let that little wretch think for even one moment that he had the upper servo here because once he did, Dreadwing knew, he would have to expect a knife in his backstrut at all times. Such was the true art of Starscream, one that was not only cowardly and disgraceful but that had cost his twin's life and that he would never forgive. Not if Starscream offered his valve a thousand times.In which Starscream rejoins the Decepticons and gets put under Dreadwing's command, who has to find out that the traitor is perhaps not as one dimensional as he had initially believed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Amazing, I'm finally uploading something again!!! And this time it's probably the rarest of rarepairs I ever wrote. Dreawing/Starscream, or as I like to call it, DreadScream. Actually, this was a set of three short chapters that I decided to fuse into a oneshot. I wrote them months ago and finally I decided to upload them, go me. orz
> 
> I'm sorry but I have no idea how to tag this fic. All I can say is... warning for some implied Megastar? Yeah.
> 
> I hope whoever decides to read this will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starscream spread his legs. They were beautiful legs, long, smooth, bendy. He seemed to take special care of them, as if showing the world what nice legs he had was one of his biggest priorities.  
  
Dreadwing's gaze lingered on them for just a nano-klik before it returned to a pair of sultry optics, beckoning him to make a move. He, however, stayed where he was, letting Starscream stew in suspense just a little more. It was what he deserved. That and more.  
  
“So this is how you attempt to appease me? By offering yourself to me like a mere pleasure tool?”  
  
“Whichever way you desire.”  
  
“And if I don't? What if I happen to find you utterly repulsive?”  
  
Starscream's legs closed while his expression turned sour like contaminated energon. He was confident in his own looks and abilities in the art of seduction though he was also offended easily, a trait that spoke of at least of some self-awareness. Dreadwing noted that little detail silently and waited until Starscream made a move to climb off his berth before holding up a servo in a sign for the slimmer flier to stop.  
  
“I did not say you could move. Get back into position.”  
  
That only seemed to add injury to insult and Starscream had become furious by now. Good. He didn't want to let that little wretch think for even one moment that he had the upper servo here because once he did, Dreadwing knew, he would have to expect a knife in his backstrut at all times. Such was the true art of Starscream, one that was not only cowardly and disgraceful but that had cost his twin's life and that he would never forgive. Not if Starscream offered his valve a thousand times.  
  
“You had not seemed so averse to this when I had offered back inside the medbay.”  
  
Dreadwing stepped closer until he reached the berth, looming over Strascream like a merciless, unforgiving shadow and Starscream twitched, slightly folding in on himself.  
  
“You fear me. You fear that I will break my promise to Lord Megatron any klik now and kill you anyway.”  
  
“I-”  
  
“Good. You should fear me. For I will not forgive and I will not forget. Remember my words, Starscream, your selfishness and disloyalty will be your undoing one day. And I will take your spark as a prize.”  
  
Dreadwing did touch Starscream then and he could feel a subtle tremor shaking that lithe frame. It felt good in a sick and twisted way, even if it went against Dreadwing's sense of honor. Then again, there was not even one drop of honor inside Starscream's spark, so why should he care?  
  
He climbed onto the berth, his optics never leaving Starscream's frame, following the barely visible lines of transformation seams between smooth silver plating. Starscream did have some sort of appeal, not even Dreadwing could deny such. It was the personality behind the looks that repulsed him so completely. He was not the kind to be swayed by a pretty appearance but had agreed to this lewd little arrangement so he could give Starscream a very personal reminder about where he stood.  
  
Megatron, for his part, had made the situation crystal clear. Starscream had received yet another chance but had gotten demoted and put under Dreadwing's command. Dreadwing on the other hand was not allowed to kill Starscream. It was a bitter pill to swallow but one he preferred to having a hole inside his chassis. There were other ways to take his revenge. Ways that included less death but more suffering.  
  
Oh, how he wanted to hurt Starscream right now. Part of his appeal certainly came from the fact that he looked so... fragile. As if you could dent his waist by simply touching it and snap an arm right off with just a light pull. While he settled between those long legs, he let his servo wander over Starscream's chassis, indecisive whether or not he should inflict at least a few injuries. Megatron had not forbidden him from disciplining Starscream a bit, now had he?  
  
He could hear Starscream's vents hitch in fear and hesitated. He was not that kind of bot. No matter what that traitor deserved, he would not soil himself by acting against his own beliefs. He directed his attention towards two fearful optics again and his caress became just a touch more gentle.  
  
“Cease your trembling. I won't hurt you. Not now.”

 

* * *

  
  
Starscream's true beauty only shone through once Dreadwing had pushed into his valve. Before, Starscream had been somewhat alluring, pretty though with a terrible character. But now? He was a piece of **art**. He writhed, moaned, arched his back in the most graceful way. His valve was tight but pliant and cycled and clenched around him, always beckoning, always demanding more, just like that strangely strong EM field that sent out pulse after pulse of need and carnal desire.  
  
Before Dreadwing could even completely analyze the situation, he was already burying his spike deep inside Starscream again and again, thrusting with abandon. Starscream moaned shamelessly, loving every nano-klik of it and meeting the thrusts with rolls of his own hips. Dreadwing wasn't sure when had been the last time that he had had an interface like that, a swirl of strange emotions and raw need. He hated Starscream, he truly did but during this moment there was nowhere he would rather be.  
  
Was this perhaps why Megatron had welcomed him back? Why he had given this one single mech more chances than he had given to all the other traitors together? Was this the reason why Starscream was still alive now?  
  
He gripped Starscream's hips, angled his thrusts and watched as Starscream's chassis arched while pleas and demands left that insolent intake in a curious mix of signals.  
  
He hated Starscream but he wanted the lithe seeker to scream his name as he overloaded. He wanted to leave his mark all over him, so Starscream would never, ever, forget who would be waiting for his fall and be there to give the final blow. There would come a time when Megatron would see the error in his ways and finally give up on the traitor. Until then, Starscream would be his to push to his very limits.  
  
Starscream did near his limit, it was in the air, in the way his EM field became more and more chaotic and desperate. Dreadwing would have preferred to draw it out just a bit more but it seemed like neither of them would be able to last much longer. Most likely, Starscream hadn't had a good interface for some time, either.  
  
He thrust inwards until he was buried as deeply as he could while he felt the overload claim every single one of his sensors. Starscream's valve twitched around him and he was distantly aware of how Starscream's red optics dimmed and then rebooted.  
  
Once he had filled him with every drop of transfluid he had to spare, Dreadwing withdrew. He felt somewhat calmer now. As if a restlessness he had felt before was finally gone. Still, he didn't want to stay here longer than necessary so he refused to let himself bask in the afterglow. Instead he climbed off the berth and shot Starscream one final, cold glance.  
  
“Rest now. Starting next solar cycle, you will report to me.”

 

* * *

 

 As Dreadwing looked over his rows of fliers, ready to be given orders for the day, his optics lingered at the newest addition for just a nano-klik longer than on the others. Starscream was not one of the drones who nearly all had the exact same frame model, so he stood out like a sore thumb. His wings, pulled downward and against his back, indicated that he was entirely uncomfortable with this situation. And why wouldn't he? He had gotten demoted, put in line with the very soldiers he had commanded before. They were staring at him, too. Nothing too attention drawing but they all clearly shot subtle glances into Starscream's direction whenever they thought Dreadwing wasn't looking.  
  
Not that Dreadwing actually cared about Starscream's comfort.  
  
“That would be all, you know what to do.”  
  
The drones saluted before making their way to the gate of the flight deck. The only one left behind was Starscream who first looked after the drones as they transformed and waited for the gate to fully open and then at Dreadwing. He was hesitant to speak up, waiting for the sturdier flier to say something first but then that didn't happen, he drew his wings in even tighter and set his optical ridges into an unsure frown.  
  
“Dreadwing- I mean, Commander Dreadwing. You have not given me any orders yet.”  
  
A gust of wind suddenly reached them and Starscream's wings suddenly lifted, quivering with the prospect of flight. Dreadwing knew that Starscream had not been able to fly in some time because he had lost his T-cog, to humans no less, which was even more disgraceful. And that was exactly why the lithe flier was still standing here.  
  
“You are to stay here. Go find yourself a way to be useful to someone.”  
  
“What?! You cannot do this! I'm the best flier on this ship!” He pointed an accusing digit at Dreadwing, his wings popping upwards in a show of indignation and anger. Dreadwing understood wing language well, seeing how he was a seeker himself, although a different type of model than Starscream. Still, the former commander was especially easy to read and under different circumstances, he would have even found some amusement in watching those antics. Perhaps.  
  
“I'm certainly better than you are.”  
  
Ah. Provocation. It befitted someone so dishonorable to resort to such petty methods but Dreadwing had already anticipated something along these lines. He stayed impassive.  
  
“My order stands. You are forbidden from leaving the ship. Dismissed.”  
  
Starscream left but not before making an angry clicking sound at the back of his throat. It was a special sound, only used by seekers when they were among their own kind. It was an insult that went beyond words, it meant that the speaker called the receiver the worst possible thing the receiver could imagine. Dreadwing watched as Starscream left and was alone with his thoughts. They had revolved around Starscream for longer than he liked to admit. It was a question of what exactly to do with him that did not involve killing him. He was well aware of Starscream's inclinations and the punishments he had received thus far. One had to get creative and think outside of the box of beatings and verbal abuse if there was to be any hope of it even reaching Starscream much less teach him a lesson that stuck.  
  
Denying him being able to fly seemed like a good place to start.

 

* * *

 

The next days were much of the same. Dreadwing did his duty, gave out orders. Starscream was denied access to the outside world. The lithe seeker grew jittery. It showed in the slight quiver of his wings, the clipped tone in his voice and the way he stretched his transformation seams from time to time, as if such an act alone could take the edge off of his restlessness. Dreadwing watched but did not comment. Instead, he gave Starscream the most shameful tasks imaginable, those that even drones usually only had to do as a form of punishment. Starscream seethed. Dreadwing observed.  
  
It went on until he was summoned by Megatron himself, the warlord looking at the outside world from the helm of his ship. He spared Dreadwing a brief glance from over his shoulder before his optics resumed their position.  
  
“Dreadwing.”  
  
Dreadwing bowed, even while knowing that his lord wasn't even looking at him. However, he would have considered it rude not to do it.  
  
“How can I be of service, lord Megatron?”  
  
“I wonder, how do you like my present? I heard Starscream has only been given mundane tasks to perform so far and is not allowed outside. Why is that?”  
  
“A form of punishment, my liege. His T-cog has been restored and he is itching to take flight again. Being a member of his kind, I know what it feels like not to be able to spread your wings.”  
  
Still not turning around to face Dreadwing, Megatron let out a short, barking laugh and that made the energon inside Dreadwing's veins jump.  
  
“Punishment, you say. Don't worry, Dreadwing, soon enough you will be begging me to take Starscream back under my own command. You don't know him like I do. Punishment will only result in him plotting against you.”  
  
“If you are aware, then why let him live?”  
  
“I have my reasons. One of which you have already tasted yourself, I believe.”  
  
Dreadwing's optics widened in shock. How did Megatron know? Had Starscream talked about it? Or Knockout perhaps?  
  
“Don't be mistaken Dreadwing.” It was then that Megatron finally looked at him again, his form taller than even Dreadwing himself who belonged to the sturdiest kind of seekers. Though Megatron was a flight-capable warframe, so it was not exactly surprising. “Putting Starscream under your care is not a reward, it is a punishment. Ultimately, Starscream is mine and mine alone and do you know why? Because no one else can handle him. He will do everything in his power to undermine and overthrow you. It is only a matter of time until you will either cave in and try to kill him or give up on him entirely. But you see, your attempt to take his life when it was not your place to do so is precisely why you are in this situation right now. Only I decide what happens to him.”  
  
Anger flared up in Dreadwing's spark. He had a few choice words he would have liked to say openly but held his glossa. His loyalty towards Megatron was already only held together by a thread and if it snapped... Dreadwing wouldn't know what to do. Everything he had experienced during his time on the Nemesis had reinforced the suspicions he had about Megatron and his officers being less than honorable. Now he had proof. But he wouldn't defect to the Autobots and there was no other place to go and no family to be his anchor and his time of turmoil. Starscream had taken that away from him.

 

* * *

 

After Megatron was finished revealing the true nature of Starscream's current position to Dreadwing, he was on his way to his own quarters. Thinking. Contemplating. What Megatron had said about Starscream sounded accurate, all things considered, but what should he do about it? Half of his processor was tempted to give up on punishing the lighter flier, just out of spite, while the other screamed for more severe punishment, for taking out his anger on Starscream so he could finally rest. Maybe kill him before getting killed by Megatron for this blatant disregard of orders. That way, he would have his revenge and not have to live with himself any longer. That, however, was not what his twin would have wanted, he knew.  
  
Skyquake had been even more loyal towards Megatron than he used to be.  
  
Dreadwing rounded a corner just to have an unbidden guest waiting in front of his door. Starscream's optics immediately focused on him and Dreadwing frowned. This was exactly the one bot he did not want to see right now. Starscream was still as restless as he had been last time they had seen each other. His wings gave a brief flutter, a sign of relief while his frame shifted into an open, inviting pose. The last part was, however, deliberate, to show Dreadwing that there was no malicious intent coming from Starscream.  
  
“Dreadwing, I-”  
  
Starscream did not get the chance to finish the sentence as a sudden flare of rage gripped Dreadwing's spark and squeezed until he grabbed the little wretch by the neck, slammed him against the wall and squeezed his neck just as hard. Starscream was completely taken by surprise, struggling, sputtering and clawing at Dreadwing's servo, but to no avail.  
  
He could end it. Right now. Squeeze until every important line of energon was cut off from Starscream's processor and wait until the light left his optics. Break that pretty neck. Punch a hole in his chassis.  
  
It would all be way too easy, however... Dreadwing hesitated. There was fear inside Starscream's optics. The same fear that had flashed when they had been on a berth together. A fear that was usually reserved for Megatron, no doubt.  
  
But he was not Megatron. Megatron, who had disappointed him. Megatron, who he lost faith in more and more each solar cycle. Megatron, who arrogantly claimed that no one would ever be able to get through to Starscream besides him. That no one would ever own Starscream besides him. Dreadwing looked at Starscream. His grip loosened.  
  
There was no respect in fear. There was no loyalty in fear. It all suddenly seemed so painfully obvious.  
  
Dreadwing let go. Starscream coughed, an attempt of his vents to get the energon lines flowing properly again and he leaned against the wall, gripping his own throat lightly as if that could somehow speed up the process.  
  
“I apologize. I was upset and almost took it out on you. That was uncalled for.”  
  
Starscream finally looked up again, a sharp glare shooting from his optics.  
  
“Were you trying to kill me?!”  
  
“I will not lie. Yes, I was. At least for a moment... but I changed my mind.”  
  
That stopped Starscream's angry tirade before it even began. Instead, he took a step back.  
  
“In that case I suppose I should leave you alone now.”  
  
“Wait.”  
  
Starscream froze.  
  
“I would like you to join me. Not in my quarters but... for a flight.”  
  
At the mention of the word “flight”, Starscream's wings perked up instantaneously. An entertaining sight. Though as quick as it came, it was squashed by a healthy dose of not undeserved skepticism.  
  
“Why would you suddenly fly with me even though you didn't allow me to fly even once?”  
  
“Because you need it. I know that you do. And right now, I feel like I might need it, too.”  
  
It wasn't like he had suddenly started liking Starscream. He only wanted to prove something – to Megatron, to himself, perhaps even to his deceased twin and to Starscream. He was not yet sure what it was that he wanted to prove, however. He would figure it out.

 

* * *

 

 Starscream had missed flying. It showed. He swayed and bolted, flew in figures and dove through the clouds. Dreadwing followed not far behind, watching silently. Starscream's patterns were as much showing off as they were him enjoying the return of his T-cog, though it wasn't like he needed to prove anything. He had been renowned for his speed and agility even before the war, especially among the other seekers.  
  
Dreadwing could still remember the gossip as if he had heard it just yesterday. “So, Starscream,” they would say, “what a prick, right?” And they would sip on some high-grade with their optics going out of focus before a giggle interrupted their doubtlessly deep and profound inner musings. “Thinks he's hot stuff just because he' a little faster than the rest of us. Keeps wiggling that tiny little aft of his, too, thinking it's irresistible or something. But I tell ya, bots, I bet he's as quick on the berth as he is in the air.” By that point, Dreadwing had usually already excused himself, not wanting to hear any more lewd comments about a mech who frankly had not deserved such treatment. Higher skill is not a shame as long as you use it honorably. Then again, Starscream had proven not to share this sentiment.  
  
Even so, it was quite mesmerizing to watch the slim frame as it soared and accelerated. Starscream's alt-mode was quite small, his slim frame pressed into a more compact form. He was like a bullet, darting from here to there and never tiring, most likely burning off excessive energy that had had nowhere to go during those last few solar cycles.  
  
Suddenly, Starscream changed his course and flipped his frame, his underside pointing upwards. He glided beneath Dreadwing's larger jet-form, rubbing their fuselages together for just a moment before darting away. He repeated the action few times. The moments of contact between the two planes was short but grew longer and more intense each time Starscream came close. In seeker language, this was an unmistakable sign. Starscream couldn't have been more blunt about it had he landed, transformed and opened his interface panel right then and there.  
  
Dreadwing wasn't exactly sure how to feel about this. Of course he had already suspected what Starscream's intentions had been, loitering outside of his quarters like this. So why, after already getting what he had truly been after, would he still offer himself to Dreadwing? It wasn't like he had even planned on ever repeating their first encounter. There had been a meaning to it that had gone deeper than mere sexual gratification and if this continued, the meaning would likely be lost. What else could Starscream be after that he hoped to be able to obtain through his valve? Forgiveness perhaps? Such a thing could never be bought, only given freely.  
  
_“Ultimately, Starscream is mine and mine alone and do you know why? Because no one else can handle him.”_  
  
Megatron's words echoed in Dreadwing's mind. The arrogance this statement implied was immeasurable. It sounded more like Starscream was a wild mechanimal than one of Megatron's closest officers and as if the ultimate goal was to break Starscream's spirit. Had it not been Megatron who had once fought against an oppressive system? Who had been appalled by bots owning and mistreating those they saw as being beneath them? Had that not been the reason Skyquake and him had looked up to the gladiator?  
  
Had Megatron perhaps truly lost his way?  
  
Despite his better judgment, Dreadwing started reciprocating Starscream's advances. He imitated the lighter flier's actions, their fuselages rubbing and sliding together as they took turns flying underneath the other.

 

* * *

 

And so, Starscream ended up on Dreadwing's berth, legs parting because of ulterior motives yet unspoken. Dreadwing let him and said nothing, exchanging spoken words seemed redundant when all the signals you needed were right there in front of you. Starscream's frame told Dreadwing more about what kind of bot Starscream was underneath all the bravado than that treacherous intake of his ever had.  
  
It told him that Starscream was eager. As vulgar as it was, the word “horny” seemed the most appropriate. It was not surprising considering their earlier foreplay. Seekers were known to be sensual creatures though not many mechs knew the more intricate rituals and practices that would activate their interface protocols.  
  
Behind the desire, there were several thought processes running at once, assessing the situation and observing Dreadwing's reactions closely while simultaneously planning at least three steps ahead. He couldn't say he was happy with that and decided he would give Starscream a bit less leverage to form one of his treacherous schemes right beneath his chin.  
  
He reached for Starscream's wing, his digits digging into seams and places where he knew clusters of sensors lay beneath the thin plating. A quick rough jab with his claws followed by a light brush over the sensitive area set them aflame with tactile feedback. And just as anticipated, Starscream moaned, his thoughts forgotten as he demanded more and stretched his wings as far as possible while he lay on his back. Even Dreadwing had to admit that this display was quite attractive.  
  
He wasted no more time aligning himself and pushing into the welcoming mesh of Starscream's valve slowly, deliberately, watching as the slimmer frame beneath him came undone with each ridge that disappeared behind the rim and created friction along the inner nodes. It was a snug fit but the mesh was pliant from arousal and Dreadwing cycled air through his systems in an attempt to calm his suddenly spiking desire.  
  
Getting involved with Starscream, even if it was just physically, was like knowingly swallowing highgrade laced with poison. A tempting sin ready to be committed. It was a crushing realization that he had not needed much convincing to find himself in the same position as before, taking from Starscream as Starscream had taken from him, though there would never be a balance because what Starscream had stolen could never be returned.  
  
Dreadwing set a slow but deep pace, one servo keeping his frame from crushing the lighter seeker underneath his weight while the other played the sensitized wing like an instrument. It fluttered and shivered beneath his touch, doubtlessly washing away every thought Starscream might have been inclined to form. Instead he hooked his legs loosely around Dreadwing's hips and demanded “faster” and “harder” and added a mocking “is that all?”. It certainly wasn't and Dreadwing was rather eager to show him, surprising himself with how readily he gave into the provocations. Though he suspected that the tight heat surrounding him, rippling with waves of pleasure, and the heady signals Starscream's electromagnetic field sent were to blame for this. He could feel his own charge levels rise with each thrust, each needy keen and each elegant arch of Starscream's backstrut.  
  
If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that those who had gossiped about Starscream so long ago had never actually interfaced with him because even if his character was as rotten as could be, he was a treat to watch and listen to.  
  
Thin talons dug into his transformation seams, managing to play with wires that were out of reach for mechs with larger servos. Starscream treated them like Dreadwing had treated his wing and the results were sudden, sharp shocks of pleasure spreading across his sensor net. He snapped his hips forward in a hard thrust, forcing a surprised shriek from Starscream's vocalizer. His legs started trembling with strain and his field indicated that the charge was reaching the tipping point. Only a few well aimed pushes against his ceiling node were needed to carry him over the edge. His field flared as his charge released waves upon waves of static. A drawn out moan accompanied by a sudden wetness between their frames was the proof of Starscream's overload. Dreadwing watched, wondering for a moment why he found that sight so enjoyable. If anything, he should find the sight of Starscream's drowning in a pool of his own energon more appealing than this.  
  
Starscream vented rapidly as the charge left him and Dreadwing, who had not had his own overload yet, changed his tactic. He grabbed Starscream's hips and – using the protruding edges of his thighs like handles – sought his own pleasure relentlessly now. Starscream let him, only making broken noises when the continued stimulation of his overly sensitive nodes brought him feelings somewhere between prolonged pleasure and discomfort.  
  
Dreadwing stilled when overload hit him, causing every sensor on his frame to burn and sizzle, the tight coil inside him dissipating while he spilled his transfluid deep inside Starscream's waiting valve.  
  
They both needed a klik to regain their bearings. Dreadwing withdrew, though not without noting how completely debauched Starscream looked like this, with his own transfluid sticking to his frame and heat radiating from his plating.  
  
Just as Dreadwing wondered whether Starscream planned to return to his own quarters looking like this, he could hear a disgusted huff coming from the smaller seeker's direction.  
  
“I don't suppose you will let me use your washracks?”  
  
Well, that was one question answered. For a moment, he considered to simply throw Starscream out and let him deal with the humiliation on his own. But that was not the kind of punishment Dreadwing approved of. He had been at fault here just as much as Starscream. He had agreed to this, there was no denying it now.  
  
“Suit yourself.”  
  
And Starscream did, vanishing inside the washracks almost as quickly as he could fly. Dreadwing listened to the spray of solvent coming from the other room and used the time he now had to himself to think.  
  
What was Starscream trying to accomplish here? It was not like Dreadwing could promote him, that was only in Megatron's power. And as far as he had seen, Starscream had avoided their lord so far. There was no immediate reason for Starscream to get on Dreadwing's good graces except to ensure that he would be treated better from now on. A futile endeavor, even Starscream had to realize that. So what was left? Did he intend to get close to Dreadwing so he could kill him when Dreadwing's guard was down? Even if that was the reason, Megatron would surely not look kindly upon this kind of behavior, remembering how he had almost snuffed out Dreadwing's spark for the same reason.  
  
Surprisingly, Starscream didn't take long before he emerged from the washracks again, ready to make a beeline for the door and flee.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
Starscream's digits hovered over the keypad.  
  
“Before you leave, tell me just one thing.” Dreadwing got up from his berth, taking a few steps into Starscream's direction and using his height as an advantage to look down on the other seeker.  
  
“Why were you so eager to interface with me? You must realize that there is nothing to be gained from this. I won't forget what you did, no matter how willing a berthpartner you are.”  
  
Starscream did not turn around, at least not fully. He did however turn his head until he could shoot a glance at Dreadwing out of the corner of his optic.  
  
“Perhaps I was just in the mood. And you turned out to be a better choice than other potential candidates.”  
  
“What about Megatron?”  
  
Starscream's wings tensed and Dreadwing understood, even before he spoke.  
  
“I would rather not deal with him right now.”  
  
“Then why did you return to the Decepticons in the first place?”  
  
The door opened and Starscream stepped outside, no longer sparing Dreadwing even one look.  
  
“You disappoint me, Dreadwing. And here I believed that **you** of all bots would know.”  
  
The door closed, giving Dreadwing no chance to answer. He knew if he opened it again, Starscream would already be gone.  
  
Of course Dreadwing knew the answer. They were seekers. Seeking the company of others was in their coding. That didn't mean he was ready to accept it, accept that even someone as vile and treacherous as Starscream couldn't escape his own basecoding.  
  
After all, feeling kinship and understanding for someone made them much harder to hate.

**Author's Note:**

> So I mean... this wasn't exactly romantic or anything, but I like to think that they will slowly come to an understanding. *nod nod*
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, thanks to everyone in advance, I love you guys!


End file.
